In my feelings

4. AFFECT OF A STRANGER (PART I)

Three weeks later...

Being in New York was a dream. Some may say I should of settled in London. A huge city minutes away from where I was located, dripping with the richest Literature. I'd be lying if I didn't think of staying, I had my whole life there. But then it's almost as if, I grew wings and all I most wanted to do was fly. Away from everything. I left friends. I left my parents. I left a boy. My whole life.

And instead of thinking I lost my life in a place, I decided to restart and think of it as I was regaining my living in another place. And all I was losing was the common London view, replacing it with American accents dancing around in the streets whilst yellow taxis take over black rides in Britain.

I looked at my travel app on my phone as I took note of the stop I would need to get off at.

Everything had been going smoothly. I finally started school last Monday, and I'm already infatuated with it. I had made some friends from my lecture class along with their own friends already. I had invited them to come over last night for takeaway and monopoly. Proper English territory.

My flat was more well, me. I felt like I belonged somewhere finally as I sat with a group of people who I could truly bond with, sharing our passion for Literature, arts and life in general.

As soon as I hopped on the tube, I shuffled across from a small crowd and seated myself near an end side as I spotted the empty seat. It was normally more packed than this on a Wednesday, especially around five, people getting back from work and school. I admired the blurry image of the city against the opposite window, pulling out my notepad and beginning to scribble notes as we began to travel.

A few minutes later, I decided to readjust myself. It hadn't been long at all, but for some reason I had began to grow tired and my eyes had been droopy the whole way. Yes, I'm still not exactly used to the time difference. Especially since I had spent most nights FaceTiming Rachel, which was when she was waking up. I looked around as I noticed the increase in people on the tube.

Accidentally yawning loudly and laughing quietly after realising, I apologised quietly to the ones around me. No one replies, sending stares over to me for no longer than a second as I moved uncomfortably in my seat.

Apart from a guy sat a seat away from me.

He laughs quietly, glancing over at me.

"That was cute."

Without taking a look at the mystery guy, I focused back on the writing I was previously finishing off. Only short stories that I had created throughout my time here.

I felt a gaze on me. Glancing over without looking at his face, I thought I would be noticing his eyes on me but he was looking down at my lap, where my notebook sat.

"Do you write often?" He asked, his voice croaky as he coughed lightly afterwards, making him sound around his late 20s I guessed.

I was kind of surprised he was talking to me, but then I remembered all the things I had warned myself about being somewhere foreign to my original surroundings.

"I'm not interested. I may be a student but I have my head straightened out-" He bursts out laughing, people glancing as they sit down or step off the train, the sound of the automatic doors closing once again.

I blush with deep embarrassment as I don't understand why he's laughing, feeling slightly irritated.

"You're making me sound like a creep. I didn't think turning 21 would make me a complete man, or a weirdo for you. Do I look that old?" I glanced straight at him, our eyes meeting.

Fuck.

This just added to the embarrassment. He looked around my age of 19, but definitely suiting the early twenties. Not late 20s, not even close.

He had soft stubble that didn't seem like it'd grow deeply, his skin looked soft, a tone of medium inside but not as deeply as mine. Sun kissed, not pure. His lips a light pink. His hair was a thick black. The deepness of the brown only appearing when the sun hit the top of his head. His eyes. Olive green, with a tint of yellow. He was.. Beautiful.

Oh what are you saying..

Well, I'm sure he knows it.

Well not anymore considering you've just practically told him he looks old.

It was his voice, it was a little deeper than expected but then again he's not a 'teen' at 21 and I had never been surrounded by older guys.

"Are you examining my old face?"

"I'm sorry I- You don't even look older and- your voice, it's just deep but soft, it's lovely but- I was just worried- I'm not from here-"

He coughed, interrupting my string of explanation. "I'm only messing with you. I have a cold so that doesn't exactly help. Living in New York in the winter, pains me to say it as beautiful as it is but, it's dreadful and I always seem to get sick." He smiled, offering his hand.

"I'm Kye."

I lightly chuckle, and shake his hand. "I'm sorry about that."

He nodded, a corner of his lip lifting. "So you're not from here?" He asked, his head slightly tilting as he studied me discretely. I peered up to him for a second and then immediately looked back at my notebook, dropping the pen in between my hands and resting them slightly on top.

"How'd you know?"

"Accent."

"Oh, I'm here for my scholarship. I'm from England. I'm currently studying English Lit in NYU."

"NYU?" He emphasised on this, and his eyes lightly raised, showing more of the sand colour that was peering through the green. "I heard it's a tough one to get in. You're a credit to your parents."

A sting of stubbornness filled me as I thought of my parents.

"I'm sorry if I said anything wrong." Kye inclined towards me, moving a seat closer and bumping his shoulder with mine and coming to a comfortable position in his new seat.

"I hope you don't mind." This made me look straight at him. He seemed fairly tall. I was around 5'6, and him possibly 6'1 foot. His figure itself seeming broader than it had looked further away.

I gently lowered my head to his arm length. Without any sort of thought, I carefully pointed my finger at his forearm as I spotted the tints of ink peeking through the edge of the material.